The Feminine Essence

Friday was a very busy day since I had to prepare all of the al-Iksir vegan goods that I would later that evening sell at a lovely event called Swap. Whenever my work involves kitchen magic, I put on inspiring talks, interviews or music on YouTube and turn on my receptive mode to make the time most enjoyable. I was just past my moon cycles and felt like I needed a feminine balm so I decided to look for my inspiration in Tami Lynn Kent, who guides women to reclaim the wild in themselves.

Most of my day was spent in the »I have to« mode, which is how I was used to get things done.

Not even close to being all set and done, I looked at the time and saw I was running late. »So what’s new,« the inner critic, who wants to live up to my father’s discipline, said. I let her words sting and flooded aimlessly around the flat, being more or less disappointed in myself because I had already predicted I would be late, mad at myself for wasting what I thought was too much time replying the messages on social media (though business-oriented) and anxious because I believed I wouldn’t manage to go hug and kiss Svarun, who was with my parents and my grandmother until after the event. I felt the familiar feeling of being drowned by my own unfinished chores and just as I was getting ready to take my last breath of sanity, I heard the echo of all of the interviews I had listened throughout the day. Immediately I hung myself onto the only arm, reaching out to my rescue from the very core of the Feminine. I resurfaced and hesitantly looked her in the eye.

»How many times did you realize that doing things the hard way was not okay, but you still go on pushing and battling against time and your body like they were the enemies?« I heard the critic again. I didn’t like her reproaching, but she was right. It was almost a year ago that I tiredly asked the Universe: »What must I do in order to be more effective with my work?« Against all of my expectations of being given a strategy, a fool-proof plan, I heard a few simple words: »You must deepen your spiritual practice.« After that I indeed deepened my spiritual practice of yoga and meditation, but solely on days when I didn’t actually have to get things done. Contrarily, on days like Friday I would still skip my morning yoga and meditation to save time and rush to get the real work done. Observant as I am, I would then notice later in the day that I was being distraught and impatient and would swear that I would never skip my peace work again, but when the next time came, I went the same old path. I still doubted that my spiritual practice was of much use in doing my business in real life because I still thought that real things had to be done the hard way, the masculine way. Things like life, raising up a kid, career, anything. I was still residing in my masculine and I did not trust my feminine to show me the way out of the stress and into the feminine essence.

On Friday she reached her hand out to save me from another exhausting day. She might have tried it before, but I didn’t see no hands before – I was too busy stressing out.  On Friday I was ready to see the hand, save myself and confront her. I had to look her in the eye, no matter how mad at me I thought she might be. As soon as our eyes met, though, I felt peace, I felt love, and I felt faith. I knew that she was in fact glad; glad I found my way home.

Such is the feminine essence.

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Photo courtesy of Teja Blatnik.

Thank you, my dearest, for being behind the camera and close to the heart.

On Being Real

If you have been following me at all up here, you know I’m taking this three-month course called Abundance Group, where we aim at developing our talents and gifts into abundance. It’s amazing. And it’s challenging to see that our acquired sense of self is often the jailer for all that we could be. That’s what I want to talk about today.

What I’ve come to notice is that I didn’t have any problems stating who I was. This is the question I’ve been dealing with fort he past decade:“Who am I, really?” And I’ve come to definitions and I’ve come to conclusions and I’ve come to internalize a set of beliefs about me that I hold dear to my heart and that make me feel right. For example, ever since I came to know the hippie movement from the late 1960’s in my early teens, I just knew: “Mom, I’m a hippie.” What got me about the hippies was their FREEDOM, but what made me stay was the prison that kept my mind believing: “It’s alright if I’m penniless, at least I’m free.” Excuse me, mind, but having a child and being penniless is no fun. Even the freedom, which was the reason that I signed up in the first place, turns to anxiety and rage when my son needs winter boots and I am in no way capable of buying a pair. I wasn’t, but luckily I always had family and friends who were. 

And then I started asking myself whether this was really who I was supposed to be? “Honestly, I’m here to be broke?”, I asked myself and paused.

The voice of the wise answered for me: “Well, if you’re buying this, I’m certainly not.” It was time to acquire a new sense of self. This sense of self made me describe myself as I did a few days ago.

I’m a woman and a mother who is aiming at balance of body, mind and soul. I am a researcher of life whose job is to find pleasure in every little step on the way. I am here to tell the truth about the way and I am here to be REAL.

Seeing the world that is fake and the people who fake in order to please or reach some sort of standards,  lights the fire on my way, because I’m here to question: “Whose standards?”. If you know the answer to this, right you are; if not, go deep inside and look for them for the answers always await until you come inside. We are our own standards and once we’ve caught a glimpse of ourselves, of our true light in being … that light is loyal enough to never let us go. Whatever we sense, or see, or feel, or hear, or touch inside – it’s all good. And if your mind can’t categorize that as good yet, know that that exact thing is a call for love; your love.

We are here to do pure magic, get it?

We are pure magic! From head to toe.

But in order to let the magic shine through, we must love and accept ourselves first. We have to come to terms with all of our pieces because none are better then others. None! Sure, we have come to accept the light and the dark, the up and the down, the left and the right, and yes, even the right and the wrong. But we have only come to know these because we live in a dualistic reality, where it’s easier to understand our different pieces as contrasts. There is no harm in that – as long as we also keep in mind that all of these contrasts can only apply to our particular viewpoints (that are unavoidably the products of our upbringing, education and experiences).

Try not to label your contrasts as right or wrong. If you do that, you will show the world only the pieces in you that you think are right and hide the rest. And that’s fake. And not only is it not REAL, but it will make the unloved, unappreciated pieces of you either sink in and hold a grudge – or (if you’re anything like me) rebel.

All of our pieces are right, because they are ours and because they are real and thus make us REAL. And if they’re showing you a part of yourself that you don’t like or try to ignore or deprive of love or starve to death … they are here because of that alone: to point the finger.

Today bathe the parts that you don’t accept in yourself with love. And let them be.

They make you REAL.

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For Fear of …

* What do you do when you fear you will hurt? When you first sense the ripples of a drama effect inside you, bouncing uncontrollably to the surface of your experience?

* What do you hold on to?

* Which feeling/ story/ role do you play out?

I’ve been having multitudes lately. It’s not that I’m not used to them, I am. In fact, when it comes to relationships, drama turns out to be the only thing that I’m really used to. Multitudes … of one day smiling my arse off at the idea of all of us just playing out our roles for one another’s growth … and the very next day acting out my good old drama when I need an excuse, a justification, grounds to judge. I feel vulnerable. It seems that I only feel comfortable inside a relationship when there’s drama.

I remember vividly when I decided upon that. We were having a family vacation somewhere at the seaside when I was about seven. I don’t recall the event, but I do remember a dark seaside cottage in the best uniform Yugoslavian style. I don’t recall what I was doing, but I do remember my parents snapping at each other. I don’t remember what the tension was about, because they always managed to find something when they were doomed to spend hours on end in the same room, but I do remember what I thought to myself.

“If this is what being married looks like, I don’t want it.”

I used to despise the fighting. I used to know that fighting is the result of someone’s current inability of not being able to relate to a fellow human.

I was right. But then I became the fight. I became it by closing my heart.

Whenever I feel like I might get hurt – I close my heart, I step back, and I shut up. I do all of that although I know that I’m closing up both to the light and the shadows. I close my heart to fear of being hurt, but I close it to love, too. I step back from what my conditioning calls good, and what my conditioning calls bad. I shut up not only to the cry of a harpy, but to angelic healing melodies, too. There is nothing coming in and nothing going out. This basically means I’m stagnating and could really use a flush.

One thing that I really learned at Sara’s Saturday SoulSpa is that us humans need flushing regularly. We need to be open, we really do. That way the world can enter us, our soul can experience it, and then we can flush it back out into the world, but keep the wisdom that we gained along the way.

So, my dearest heart, open up and smile to the world today. All is well. Everything loves and takes care of you.

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Indecisiveness

“What happened to you?” he asks me, munching on his dinner, while I’m holding the computer in my hands and letting myself be receptive to today’s story.

“What do you mean?” I ask, totally knowing what he meant.

“What happened so that you can finally be relaxed?”

“I don’t know yet. I haven’t gotten to the end of tonight’s story.” It so happens that I often realize things after I’ve written them down right here on this blog.

I have this ongoing story with somebody. He is a man and I love him. I never doubted that. What I do doubt, though, is the ability of the two of us to make a life together. Being with him always feels like I’m stealing sweet moments from my real life; the life of money and work and bills to pay. The part of life I haven’t been willing to observe in detail yet, but I really feel I ought to now. And because I have had the abovementioned fear (and many others), I have been indecisive with him. It’s a severe degree of indecisiveness that borders on bipolarity. I love you – I love you not – I want to be with you – I want to be with you not. Except from my personal experience of a fundamental deep-seated restlessness, I didn’t know what this must feel like from a perspective outside of me. I wondered and the answer was given. Ask, and you shall be given, right?

Remember when I said parenting is the spiritual practice for the bold? My son has once again shown me the mirror. I knew I could count on him.

The day we left home, I gave him a choice of either staying at home with my father or going with me to our dearest Soča river valley, where we’ve had our second home for the past year and a half. I was O.K. with both outcomes, so I thought making a decision might be a good practice for a weighing libra. This turned out to be a bad idea in terms of practice, but a good one for me to see what indecisiveness looks like in action. Whoa! Svarun couldn’t decide. Not only could he not decide, he would make up his mind ten times in a minute then break up, change and repeat. This went on for more than half an hour, including me already taking him over to my parents’ and saying goodbye for a dozen times. Every time we’d said goodbye and I sat in the car, he would stop me to climb in, and when I’d try to help him put on the seat belt, he would start climbing back down, telling me he has changed his mind. I was looking at him, but could only see myself in him. And every time I thought must be the last time to bounce, he would bounce again and again. The bouncing was unstoppable.

Such is therefore our indecisiveness, when we are unstoppably bouncing from fear to love, and back?

We are here to recognize that each and every little thing we do holds sponsorship from either love or fear. Once we conceptually know this, the rest of the world seems easy peasy. Is easy peasy. If we know where we stand, and we know that everything we create we in fact cocreate with the Universe, we can take care of our part, right?

So, yeah … indecisiveness. It’s time to fear the fears and surrender them to love. Mmmm, took any decisions lately? The one decision I have made so far is to ask myself every single time before undertaking any kind of task or emotional endeavour:

Am I acting out of love, or out of fear?

I ask and the answer is given.

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I am Enough

I’m sitting on Svarun’s bathroom step stool (you know the little steps they make for children to reach bathroom sink) while the computer is resting on our bamboo laundry hamper, dancing throughout my typing. I just washed my hair, something I was looking forward throughout the day, and I love how the water is freely dripping on my back and ass. I’m sitting here because I have nowhere else to go; namely, the floor in the rest of the flat is still wet from cleaning. I cleaned the entire flat because if there’s something I know about myself it’s that I like to return to a fresh and tidy home. So I decided to make myself happy. I’m the first one to take care of that. It’s just me after all.

During the day while I was preparing vegan treats to sell at a weekend festival here in Slovenia, I felt really good … but confused. I had this conversation in the morning with my friend and we were talking about running a business and making in happen and while it left me inspired for a while, it all melted down into these existential questions like “who am I” and “what is real” and “do I have to pick one thing to be, or can I immerse into everything that my heart desires”. I liked the existential nature of the questions I was asking myself because I think that once in a blue moon (or rather every moon) it’s good to redefine ourselves. Like, from head to toe. That’s one of the qualities of the darkness; of digging deep into oneself.

Who am I, then?

My friend Attila from Arambol’s jungle in India sums it up perfectly, when he says: “When we switch off the mobile and all the information and the news, suddenly it’s awakening by itself. It’s what we are all dreaming of, to be nobody again – it means ourselves, not this or that.” In the darkness, the etiquettes that we’ve attached to ourselves dissolve and what is left is what we really are.

What I learned today, is that I’m enough. I’m enough to do all the work that I need to do. I’m enough to go to a festival alone with my son. I’m enough to keep my son company. I’m enough to set up a tent, think of all we’re going to eat in the following days. I’m enough to do it all by myself.

Mind you, I didn’t know this before. I was always taught that a woman, let alone a mother, needs a man to help her out, so I gladly accepted the help that was lying around. I had been counting on it, so it always came. But with time I’ve learned that by accepting people’s help to do just about everything, I was disempowering myself. When I would break up with my boyfriend for the hundredth time, I’d call a friend because I couldn’t handle my emotions; when I would need to pay a bill, I’d call my father to do it for me because I couldn’t do it via the internet but didn’t feel like going to the post office to do it physically. The list goes on. And while I’m not saying it’s bad to ask for help or accept it when offered, I am saying: don’t count on it. The only person I can count on is myself. And this I’m not saying with my a mouth full of bitter ash of disappointment, but with pride and a full heart that knows – I am enough.

It’s always just me … which I mean in the most empowering way possible.

Go girl!

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Spirituality and Mamahood

Spirituality and mamahood. Where do they intersect?

Svarun went on a week-long holiday with my parents on Saturday. While I do believe it’s healthy and desirable that we spend 7 days out of 365 apart, I miss him a lot. And I feel guilty, too. Guilt is probably the number one emotion all mothers worldwide experience. We were conditioned with the role of a perfect mother and when we don’t live up to it, we feel guilty, all the while forgetting we’re only human with strengths and weaknesses.

On our Saturday’s sweat lodge that I talked about here, I received a very profound message.

(I say received, because I didn’t hear or read it anywhere, it just came to me formed in words, through my mind, and in into the knowing. I usually get such messages in form of words, because words are my chosen form of expression, but you may get it as a vision, a voice, a set of numbers. Receiving such messages from the Universe is what I call divine inspiration; it’s how the recipe for my synergy bars came to be. It’s as if I was reading the book of Universe that contains all that is, all that was and all that is yet to be.)

Back to the sweat lodge. When we made the fire to heat the rocks and sat down, forming half moon around the circle, the following knowing came to me:

Your task is to turn all of the conditions that your mind sees as weaknesses into your strengths; they are here to serve you.

I knew exactly what we were on about. I’m very devoted to my personal growth and spiritual practice, as I have been on and off for the past six years, but never to such an extent as now. But considering I’m a single mother who worked and raised her son at home for three and a half years until he went to kindergarten this February, I was not given much time to harness my internal peace. For three and a half years it meant either waking up really early and risking the exhaustion of my body, or the exhaustion of my mind that was craving 5 minutes of me-time. But even when I was given the five minutes, I didn’t know how to use them because I was avoiding myself and my darkness. I conceptually knew I should meditate, but never took the time to sit on the meditation pillow. As soon as Svarun finally fell asleep for his midday nap, I ran away from me and went … to the kitchen, to the internet, to clean something unnecessary, to do anything that would prevent me from facing the stillness. I lived in such frenzy that honestly, I didn’t know how I remained sane.

Now that I do all of my peace work, I still sometimes experience the contrast (that I talked about yesterday). Then my ego mind would try to come up with an excuse to set me free of the responsibility: “Well, I’m a mother. If only I had all the time in the world to invest in my spiritual journey, I would be a spiritual leader by now.” Bullshit. Nobody has 24/7 to invest in their spiritual practice. Besides, every situation we find ourselves in it’s because it is here to support us; they are not something we need to fight. Yep, even being a mompreneur and trying to meditate. I had the feeling long before Svarun was born, that I will grow with my first child. But up until now I wasn’t very good at putting that feeling into practice. For example, I would witness his reactions that were pissing me off, and I knew they were actually my reactions. They were the part of me that I didn’t want to acknowledge, so I felt the need to fight them, condition them, uproot them.

I don’t feel bad about it. But I do see now how every single circumstance is a blessing. Our children are showing us the mirror 24/7. It’s just copy-paste, copy-paste, copy-paste. They are a reflection of ourselves and when there is something in them that bothers us, it’s because we have it, too, but trying to ignore it.

And I thought I didn’t have enough time to devote to my spiritual practice?! Time is not something we have. Time is something we make.

Right now, I can either go back to trying to have the time for my meditation, yoga, and reading, or I take the time that I’m given with this precious being as devotion to my spiritual practice, such as it is. Just being with Svarun is a seminar in the very next things in and about me that must be dealt with in order to life a happier and healthier existence. The best part, thought? I know he thinks I’m fine just as I am. Children don’t have a hard time forgiving, us adults do. One time I asked Svarun why he choose me to be his mother, and he said: “Because you seemed young.” I didn’t fully understand his response then, but I know now what he wanted to say. He knew he was going to be my teacher, and he knew his mother was going to grow as she went.

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